


A Time to Dare

by Venivincere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-10
Updated: 2008-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venivincere/pseuds/Venivincere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the risk is worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Time to Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Reversathon 2007. So, so many thanks to my wonderful beta without whom this story would have been illegible. Any mistakes you see are purely due to my own dunderheadedness. To my dear Wanda Winsome: I tried to incorporate your requests into this fic, but if you are at all unhappy, you have my permission to flog me with a riding crop until your frustrations are resolved (even if it means I must show a bit of ankle to oblige).

**Title:** A Time to Dare  
 **Author:** (venivincere at hotmail dot com)  
 **Pairing:** Harry/Snape  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Category:** Romance with a little hurt/comfort  
 **Summary:** Sometimes the risk is worth it.  
 **Warnings:** None.  
 **Recipient (fest pseudonym):** Wanda Winsome  
 **A/N:** Written for Reversathon 2007. So, so many thanks to my wonderful beta without whom this story would have been illegible. Any mistakes you see are purely due to my own dunderheadedness. To my dear Wanda Winsome: I tried to incorporate your requests into this fic, but if you are at all unhappy, you have my permission to flog me with a riding crop until your frustrations are resolved (even if it means I must show a bit of ankle to oblige).

  
::--------------------------------------------::

Despite the exotic destination of his vacation, the Portkey to Faial dumped Harry on his arse as unceremoniously as any other. Dusting off his rump, he looked at the glowing dotted line on his map, hefted a tremendous pack and lumbered down the hill and around the corner.

Vista do Pico Bed and Breakfast turned out to be a low, stone farmhouse with an outbuilding, both with airy porches looking down the mountain and across the sound at an extinct volcano. At least, the literature the agent gave him said it was extinct. He supposed it was; he hadn't seen it smoke the hour he'd been staring at it from an insanely comfortable rocker on the farmhouse porch. He might have gone on staring for another hour if the creak of the screen door hadn't pulled him out of his idle musing.

"Mr. Potter, may I introduce our other guest?" His hostess indicated a slender man with a non-descript face framed by salt and pepper hair down to his shoulders. "Mr. Brewer, Mr. Potter. I'll leave you two to get acquainted, shall I? Tea will be ready in a jiff." The screen door creaked again.

"Potter," said the man, staring at Harry with rather a surprised look on his face.

"Yes? Do I know you?" Harry started up from his chair, and stopped half way -- he didn't recognize the man, not really, but there was something vaguely familiar about him.

The man's eyes widened a touch. "Perhaps not. My mistake."

"No worries." Harry sank back into his chair and watched the man take an identical one opposite the door. "Just get here?"

"No."

Well. There being nothing that could be said about that, Harry said nothing and continued his good, long look at the volcano. Being barely into the second hour of his vacation a little silence was welcome, actually; most of his days he spent in the throes of contentious communication. Out of a handful of potential vacation spots, this one won hands down for being small, quiet, secluded and cheap. Just the thing for a desk rat in the Auror Division.

Harry lost himself in thought until he heard a soft noise beside him. Brewer's chin nested on his chest, his hands turned up on his knees. He was fast asleep.

"Please don't disturb him," said his hostess when she returned with tea. "He doesn't sleep well."  
Which was something Harry understood rather well. He wondered what kept Brewer up nights. "I wouldn't dream of it."

::----------------------------------------------::

"Potter, you idiot! Get down!"

Snape yanked Harry down into the crevasse barely in time to avoid a blast of raw, red power. Clutching Harry tight to his chest, he Apparated out just as Voldemort was coalescing above them. They emerged in a dusty corridor and collapsed against the wall. Harry fought this way out from under Snape and rose to his feet, heaving.

"What'd you do that for?" He shouted.

"In case it escaped your notice, Potter, I saved your life just now. Again."

"I was trying to _kill_ him!"

"He was _going_ to kill _you_ , you insufferable brat!"

"You -- just -- shut up. I can't stand you. This makes four times you've stopped me from killing him, now. _Quit interfering!_ Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Potter, I harbour intense hatred for you, too. On your own merits, never mind your father. You couldn't be more of an idiot if you tried. What part about 'I'm saving your life' don't you understand? Or do you have a death wish?"

"Deathw -- I don't expect to survive this, Snape. You know what the prophecy said. I've known I was going to die doing this for a long time, and at this point, I just want to get the bloody job done. I want it over with." Harry sank down on the wall next to Snape, not quite touching shoulders. "I'm done. I'm just... I'm done."

They sat quietly for a time before Snape said "Potter. If you keep trying to kill him this way, you're going to consign us all to hell."

"What?"

"You're only going to succeed in killing yourself." Snape's shoulder touched Harry's as he breathed a deep sigh. "You'll not kill him with recklessness."

"I'm not."

" _Yes_ , you idiot, you are. Be reasonable, if you can wrap your head around that concept. At least _try_ to see reason."

"I hate you."

"I know. We've covered that territory already and the feeling is more than mutual, as you know." Snape took a deep breath. "But I've given far too much of my life to see you fail now, so you had better not let your hatred get the best of you."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" said Harry, not even touching on Snape's hatred getting the best of him. He let himself lean a little further into Snape's shoulder.

Snape turned his head and looked down at him. "As loathe as I am to spend one second more with you than strictly necessary," said Snape, leaning away from Harry's weight, "I propose we form a collaborative effort."

"Yeah. What?"

"Join forces, Potter. Be allies. Make a plan together. But this time, a plan that will work."

::----------------------------------------------::

Brewer woke in the middle of tea and poured out. He offered more to Harry, who thought it evident the man seemed much improved for his nap.

"No, thank you," said Harry. "I'm all set."

They sat in companionable silence for a bit before Brewer said "So, what brings you here -- Potter, was it?"

"Potter it is," answered Harry. "I'm here on vacation. I've been overdue for months, now." He flicked his gaze to the man on his left. "Are you on vacation, too?"

"I'm spending the summer here in the cottage." Brewer pointed with his cup to the outbuilding. "I've got it April to October."

"Oh? What do you do?"

"I'm a -- botanist. For the Natural History Museum in London. The Azores have many rare species, few of them in our collection, however."

Harry looked at the flora growing in rich profusion around the porch and in clumps dotting the hillside. Some were tropical, others reminded him of the aspidistra living in the window box next to the door of his flat. Brewer was undoubtedly telling the truth about that, and his cover story was plausible enough not to evoke suspicion, but he was lying, nevertheless. He gave off magic like nobody's business. Not that his Muggle hosts would have noticed, or even most wizards. But during the war, Harry'd got quite good out of necessity at sensing residual magic. He wasn't going to call the man on it, though; one thing Snape had taught him during the war was to let the liars uncover themselves. Let them reveal themselves as inadvertently and inevitably as they did, attempt to discover motive, and once the truth was known or guessed at, _then_ confront them.

"Sounds interesting," he eventually replied. "You must know Mark Spenser, then."

Brewer's eyes widened briefly. "Yes, somewhat; do you know him?"

Harry thought there could be several reasons for Brewer's surprise. "Met him at a party, once," he said, not admitting to all the other times he'd met him; Mark was a good friend of Neville's.

"So, what do you do?"

Knowing the question for the diversion it was, and also thinking that if this man was as powerful as he seemed, he could also sense residual magic, Harry answered in a way that both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds would not question: "Law enforcement."

"Sounds -- interesting," said Brewer.

 _Touch._ Harry grinned. "Not as interesting as you might think. It's a desk job. Almost as many headaches as case files."

"I imagine so."

They were silent for a time, sipping tea and staring at Pico burnishing gold in the evening sun. What a peaceful place. During the time he was sitting there, the hillside's shadow had crept over the house. Above him, the sky was beginning to grow violet. Evening birdsong accompanied his thoughts, punctuated by the rustling of leaves in the breeze. What a fragile thing, this peace; Harry had no desire to disturb it.

He decided to let it go and let Brewer have his secrets. This wasn't the war. And why did thoughts of the war make him nostalgic, anyway? He felt almost as weary and run down now as he had, there at the end. At least, now, he knew which risks were worth taking and which battles were worth fighting.

But deep into the night, just as sleepless as ever since the war, he found himself thinking about Brewer again. Something about the man was familiar, despite the obvious glamour; his social awkwardness strangely known and comforting. But by the time he fell asleep he still couldn't place the man. He dreamt of the war, and Snape, and woke up feeling restless and irritable.

::----------------------------------------------::

"I fail to see how this plan of yours is any different than the last four of mine."

"Potter, you'd fail to see a hippogriff if it landed next to something shiny. Now, pay attention."

"God, I hate you."

"Oh, newsflash. Let's call the Prophet, shall we?"

"Arse."

"Idiot."

"Ba--"

"--Potter! Let us put away the enmity and get back to the plan. Here, look at this."

Snape shoved a large parchment under Harry's nose and Harry took a look at it. "I see nothing but squiggles. It's no use."

Snape pondered that, while Harry fidgeted in the chair next to him. "I see. He must have put the location under Fidelius. I'll have to go with you, then."

"Like I was saying, you'd need to be there anyway, to drop the wards."

"How is it that you made top marks in Defense and yet you _still_ can't get it through your head that there are two sides to every ward?"

"But why--"

"Because, you idiot, I could have dropped the wards from the inside! Think about the advantage."

"I see the advantage. Quit calling me an idiot," said Harry, taking a step closer to Snape.

"I will call you an idiot until you start using your head." He punctuated the last few words with taps of his wand on Harry's chest.

Harry grabbed it and yanked, but Snape did not let it go; Harry found himself chest to chest with Snape and the simmering anger abruptly transformed. Just as he realized his erection was poking into the join of Snape's thigh, he felt an answering hardness against the flat of his belly.

They both pushed away from the other violently; the wand fell to the ground between them. Their breath heaved into the silence.

"What --"

"Potter, do not talk. Never, ever say _anything_ about this, or you _will_ feel my wrath." Snape summoned his wand and pointed it to the parchment. " _Incendio!_ "

"But --"

"Silence. I'm accompanying you through the wards, disastrous as that will inevitably turn out to be, and you will not object."

"Professor --"

"I said _silence_ , Potter!"

Snape pulled his robes close and threw floo powder into the fire. Just as he was stepping in, he heard Potter say "I only wanted to thank you!"

::----------------------------------------------::

Sleep, like the tide, gradually receded in waves and left Harry on the shores of a brand, new day. Eventually, his eyes opened, and it wasn't until he stretched that he discovered the disgraceful state of his sleeping trousers. It had been quite a long time since _that_ particular happy accident had occurred. Nevertheless, it was likely why he'd had the best sleep he'd had in months. When he finally looked at the clock, he saw that he might actually make it to lunch if he hurried. He threw on a pair of pants and trousers and a plain white t-shirt that had seen better days and clattered down the stairs to the dining room.

He heard the subdued voices of his hosts in the kitchen. Brewer looked up from his place at a table spread as lavishly as any at Hogwarts had ever been.

"Brewer," Harry nodded, sitting down and serving himself.

"Good afternoon, Potter."

"I hope you weren't waiting long?"

"We don't stand on custom, here." He took a bite and shoveled his fork into his food.

Brewer's magic rolled over Harry in waves, and again he was struck by the familiarity of the feeling. It roused him far more effectively than the tea.

"You seem familiar to me, Brewer," said Harry, eyes fixed firmly on his plate. From the corner of his eye he saw a vein pulse in Brewer's forehead.

"Is that so?"

Brewer didn't say anything about Harry. He was either at a loss, or just as cagey as Harry, himself. Harry expected the latter. Despite his resolve the evening before to let sleeping dogs lie, he found he wanted an easy challenge that his job didn't depend on.

Well. If he was going to find out more, he'd have to spend some time with the man. "So -- I was thinking of taking the ferry to Pico this afternoon and doing some hiking. Would you be interested in coming along?"

"I -- very well. There are samples I should like to collect that were not blooming when I was last there."

How was it that travel over water made him feel so cleaned out and fresh? The wind on the water seemed to blow right through him and sweep away the cobwebs, leaving nothing but fresh air and an abundance of energy behind. By the time the cart had taken them up to the base of the hiking trail, Harry felt ready to climb the Matterhorn.

"I envy you your long season here," he said, when they started on their way.

"This is my field season. I am away seven months of the year, in any event."

"Have you been here before, then?" asked Harry, hitching his day pack a little higher.

"Yes -- twice."

"You must enjoy it here."

"It's peaceful." Harry turned to Brewer, but he wasn't looking.

"You sound as though you haven't had much of that in your life. Peacefulness, I mean."

Brewer paused for a long moment. "I haven't."

::----------------------------------------------::

"Enough! I'm exhausted," said Harry. He and Snape had been working on ward reduction for a solid day, and it was far more draining than he remembered it ever being in Defense.

"Me, too," said Snape, and he looked it. His skin was grey and the circles under his eyes were darker and puffier than normal. Harry knew Snape slept poorly at the best of times, but the evening before had been particularly trying. Stuck in the Shrieking Shack with Death Eaters on the prowl, they dared no magic after their daily practice, propping themselves in the remains of a closet with nothing softer or warmer than each other to lean against.

"I need a break, Potter. _We_ need a break." And with that, Snape pulled him close and Apparated. When they emerged at their destination, Snape deposited Harry on a dilapidated sofa and said nothing more than, "My home." He conjured pizza and Muggle beer, waved his wand at the telly, and they spent the evening getting pleasantly sozzled while watching the tennis at Wimbledon. It was an event so far out of context for Harry that it didn't seem real. Perhaps that was why, after so many beers and conversation that could have gone on between _friends_ it was so benign, Harry found himself sitting close enough to Snape to kiss -- and so he did.

The evening must have been out of context for Snape, too; he didn't stop Harry. He didn't say no when Harry climbed on top of him and unfastened every fiddly button, when Harry peeled his shirt off, when Harry dipped his fingers inside Snape's smalls and ran the backs of his fingers over the velvet skin of his cock.

He didn't say no until they both lay exhausted and sticky on the sofa, and then he also said, "Never again."

::----------------------------------------------::

"For a long time I was away in the war," said Harry, a couple hours later. He was running out of things to talk about that didn't specifically allude to the Wizarding world. A war was safe, though, as he wasn't about to specify _which_ war. Let Brewer or whoever he was think it was one of the skirmishes on the continent. "I haven't slept well, since."

"It seems we have this in common, too, then," said Brewer.

"You were also in the war?" Harry wasn't surprised to learn this. He'd spent the afternoon wandering all over Pico with the man, and he was growing familiar with his mannerisms and his conversation. Harry thought he could almost put a name to him, now. But the question still remained _Why?_ Why hide from Harry? "What did you do?"

"I fought. On the front lines. It was a mistake. I was young; I made choices that were -- less than right." Brewer looked up at Harry. "So I used the war to try and put right so many things I had got wrong. Nevertheless, I failed."

"Why so?"

"The price I paid was too steep."

"I don't under--"

"Potter. If you don't mind..."

"Sorry." Harry stayed quiet for a bit, and thought. Yes, the war had been won. Both he and Snape had paid terrible prices to ensure that. But they both came out of it whole; they both survived. So what --

"I betrayed a trust. I damaged a boy half my age."

"Oh!" But Harry had wanted it -- had wanted more of it, and he never had the opportunity again to ask.

"And I never apologized. After our last mission together, I Dis-- I disappeared." Brewer stepped off the path and sat down in the sparse grass.

Harry sat down next to him, and leaned gently into the man's shoulder. "You didn't hurt me, you know."

Harry hadn't expected any reaction, so he wasn't surprised when all Snape did was hang his head and murmur "I wasn't going to see you again. I wasn't." And, oh, the brokenness in his voice.

"I wanted you, you know."

"You were crazy. You were a child."

"I was a man, Severus. I loved you."

Snape snorted.

"You loved me, too."

"Not in this lifetime did I ever--"

"Four times, Severus. You pulled me away from certain death four times, at the risk of your own life. And that doesn't even count all the times you saved me at school. Don't ever try to tell me there wasn't something there."

"I've never admitted I've never dared."

Harry hooked an arm around Snape's shoulders and pulled him back until they lay flat on the mountain looking up into the azure sky. "Those were dangerous times. You dared when it counted."

"And these are not so dangerous times...."

Harry rolled on his side, put his arm over Severus' chest and pulled him in tight. He _did_ know, now, which risks were worth taking and which battles were worth fighting. "So, maybe it's my time to dare."

~fin~


End file.
